The End Zone
by MattheJ1
Summary: A proud member of the 'So Bad It's Good' category, this fanfiction is unbelievably terrible. Enjoy!
1. Prologue: No Survivors

This is a bad fanfiction. As a matter of fact, it's outright terrible. It has cardboard-cutout characters, a laughable story, ridiculous logic, and – most damningly enough – cribbed notes from Final Destination 4, of all places. Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote this piece of crap.

This is so terrible that I actually think it has fallen into the 'So bad it's good' category, which is why I posted it here. Anyway, it has people dying in stupidly ridiculous ways, and that's why you're here, isn't it? So, without further ado, here we go.

P.S. To my Reign of the Pyro fans, that L4D-TF2 crossover isn't going to happen. I'm sorry, it's just one of those ideas that sounds good in the head, bad on paper.

The End Zone

_Death plays games with the lives of man. What's more, he always wins._

_There's an old fable if there ever was one. But what if it's true?_

_What if he decided to entrust the fate of hundreds of people, say, in a football stadium, to the roll of a die? What if the roll decided for them to die?_

_What if they didn't?_

Prologue

No survivors

"I can't believe you got us these seats, bro!" Linda Lopez said. "I can almost see the sweat on the players' jerseys!"

"Well," Martin said, "it pays to have friends in high places. As a matter of fact, here comes my friend now," he said, pointing up at the door to the parking lot.

"What?" his girlfriend, Anna said. "All I see is – oh my god, Tony Ortega?" she screamed as Tony, the star player of the New Mexico Bravos, walked through the door of box 18, section O.

"Yep, that's right. I've known him since I was 18."

"You knew Tony Ortega for seven years, and you never told your own sister?" Linda said as Tony sat down beside her.

"Apparently," Martin said.

What they didn't know was that, beneath their feet, there were twenty-seven gigantic air conditioners keeping the stadium at 70 degrees.

Meanwhile, in the football field, one of the players kicked a field goal from the 40-yard line.

"No way he'll make it," Linda said.

"He'll totally make it," Anna said.

As it happened, neither of them were right. The football hit the goalpost and bounced off, causing the goalpost to alter direction ever so slightly just as the timer for the second quarter counted down to zero.

"Who could have predicted that?" Tony said.

"Not me," said Jesse Smith gloomily, who had bet against pretty much everything that had happened and, consequently, lost 50,000 dollars in less than an hour.

"**The score is tied at 10 to 11 at halftime,"** the announcer said, unaware of his error.

What nobody knew was that air conditioning unit #13 had, in direct violation of standard procedures, been set to 68 degrees.

As halftime began, a pair of stoners in the front row, Reggie and Carl, began to yawn. "Big deal. Why can't they show something people want to see?" Reggie asked.

"How about this?" a woman said, standing up, tearing off her clothes, and streaking around the seats.

"Cover up, lady!" Danielle Durlap yelled. "There's kids here!" she said, gesturing to her son, Jason Durlap, a small boy sitting behind Tony.

"It's okay, I got it," Tony said, taking off his helmet and putting it on the kid.

"Not what she meant, but thank you for doing the minimum ethically required standard for decency," Martin said.

"Hey, I want to see the naked woman, and I think we both know that you do, too. All that's stopping you from agreeing with me is that girl right beside you," Tony said casually.

Martin leaned towards Linda. "You see why I never introduced you," he whispered.

Nobody knew that air conditioning unit 13, forced into overdrive, had just about had enough.

Joseph Darin, circus performer, didn't know.

Arianna Desmoulin, self-proclaimed professional streaker, didn't know.

Reggie Dundrass, pothead, didn't know.

Tony Ortega, sports star, didn't know.

Danielle and Jason Durlap, mother and son, didn't know.

Linda Lopez, sister of Martin, didn't know.

Carl Dinowitz, other pothead, didn't know.

Jesse Smith, terminally pessimistic man, didn't know.

Martin Lopez, main character, didn't know – this time.

All that changed in a split second.

"All right, honey, I'll get some more nachos," Joseph Darin said. As he stood up, the temperature of ACU 13 passed the threshold for safety. As he walked into the aisle, it exploded. And one split second later, the shockwave caused a slab of concrete to fly up between his legs, penetrating two feet into his torso and killing him.

"Joseph!" his wife yelled, but this was drowned out in the cacophony of screams as people saw what happened. Arianna attempted to redress and run out, but an explosion from another air conditioning unit, which had been critically damaged by the first explosion, knocked her over the wall and into the football field with her shirt still around her neck. The shirt caught on a flagpole, and the force of her impact caused her to break her neck, killing her.

"Dude, let's get out of here," Reggie said; however, another explosion knocked a large sign loose from the stadium's outside wall, falling down and impaling him through the mouth.

"AAAAAHHH!" Carl said. He bolted up the stadium stairs, shoving Tony out of his way. Moments after he did so, another explosion propelled Jason towards Tony. His helmet smashed Tony's skull, and as it did so it splintered, causing a slice to be propelled into Jason's brain.

"Jason!" Danielle yelled, running towards him. As she did so, she tripped and landed in the hole where the first explosion started, falling into the now on fire air conditioner and setting herself on fire.

Meanwhile, Linda, Anna and Martin ran down away from the crowd, hoping to find a way out away from the crowd. As they did so, another explosion knocked over the goalpost, which had been turned slightly as a result of the failed field goal. It landed on a drink stand, which caused its small air conditioning unit to explode. A water bottle flew from the wreckage and knocked Linda on her back. Moments later, the other end of the goalpost fell over, crushing her.

"Linda!" Martin screamed, but Anna pulled him away and they continued to run around, looking for an exit. Meanwhile, above them, Carl and Jesse were doing the same thing. An explosion nearby caused a seat to be thrown into the air, and it landed on Carl, killing him.

A short while later, Jesse found an exit in the form of a security door, only to discover it locked. Frantically, he pulled out his pocketknife and picked the lock. Unfortunately, a seventh explosion greeted him as he opened the door, and as he was knocked back, his knife flew from his hand into his heart.

Martin and Anna, meanwhile, had managed to make it out to the parking lot, where very few people had made it. "Our car's over there," Anna said, pointing to a car near them. "We just have to–"

"Look out!" someone screamed as a final explosion threw shrapnel across the lot. Martin turned just in time to see a steel bar fly towards his face-

WHAM!


	2. Chapter 1: Who knew?

**Chapter one  
Who knew?**

"I can't believe you got us these seats, bro!"

Martin looked around. He was back in the stadium, and nothing had happened. Linda was on his right, and Anna was on his left. Could it have been all a dream?

"You okay, honey?" Anna asked.

"Yeah, I just had a nightmare, where-" he began.

"Oh my god, it's Tony Ortega!" Linda said.

Martin turned around. There was Tony strolling towards him just as he had in his dream. "Oh shit."

"Martin? What's the matter?" Anna said.

"That field goal kick will hit the post," Martin predicted.

Sure enough, it happened.

"Whoa, how'd you do that?" Linda asked.

"I could've predicted that," Tony said.

"Tied 10 to 11 at halftime," Martin said.

"What?"

"**The score is tied 10 to 11 at halftime,"** the announcer said, like clockwork.

"Martin, you're scaring me," Linda said.

"That woman is about to start streaking," Martin continued.

"Martin, stop it," Anna protested.

Sure enough, Arianna removed her clothes.

"It was real," Martin said, then stood up. "Everybody get out of here! This place is going to collapse!"

"Sit down, Martin," Anna said.

"Everyone, run! This place is going to collapse, and all of you are going to die!" he continued.

"Whoa, man, just chill," Joseph said.

"You'll die first!" Martin said.

"Calm down, dude," Joseph said uncertainly.

"You'll get hit by a concrete brick in your torso when your wife here sends you for nachos!" Martin said.

WHAM! Joseph punched him in the jaw. "Shut the hell up!" he shouted, only to be kicked in the shins by Martin. Soon they were in an all-out brawl, from punching to biting.

"What's going on up there?" Arianna said, having hastily redressed.

"Stay out of this, whore!" Linda said.

Arianna winced as if she had been slapped, then slapped Linda herself. They soon began to fight as well.

"Whoa, chick fight," Carl said.

"Hell yeah!" Reggie added.

"Stop swearing around my son!" Danielle said, also a little shaken by the prophecy Martin had given.

Tony, completely nonplussed, said, "If you don't like it, go home."

"You're not part of this, so back off, jackass!" Jason said.

"Jason!" Danielle hissed.

Tony, however, seemed to find this funny. "Jackass? Well, let me tell you-"

"All right, I'll have to ask everybody to leave now." This last comment came from a security guard, who, along with three others, escorted out Martin, Joseph, Arianna, Linda, Danielle, Jason and Tony.

Watching Arianna and Linda go, Reggie said, "Dude, the entertainment's leaving."

"Well, let's leave with it!" Carl said. So the two druggies followed them out.

As they were leaving, the security guards were blocked by Jesse. "Hold on a moment. Why are you taking these people out? This guy probably just drank a few too many beers and picked a couple fights," he said.

"You idiot!" Martin yelled. "This place is going to collapse!"

"Now, now, I'm sure you think that now, but that doesn't mean these people have to miss a game they paid good money for. Now why don't you just – ow!" he said as Martin punched him in the face.

"Okay, that's it! You're all coming out!" the security guard said, and the four of them hauled the ten people out, Martin still proclaiming the impending doom.

As for Anna, she was pondering what to do. She had, of course, seen and heard everything, but she was not completely sure she wanted to miss this game. Eventually, however, she decided to follow him – and got up just in time to be hit square in the face with the cinderblock from the first explosion.

Meanwhile, outside, everyone's attempts to return to the stadium were continuously blocked by the four security guards.

"Come on, let us back in there!" Joseph said. "My wife's in there, and she's probably getting worried."

"No! You can't go back in there! If you do you'll die!"

"That's enough! Both of you shut up! Now, here's what's going to happen. You're all going to drive home, and we'll just forget this ever – oof!" he was suddenly tackled by Tony.

"Get off of me, you stupid, ugly mother f-"

WHAM!

"-ucker?" the guard said as a huge slab of rubble slammed down exactly where he had been.

"Anna!" Martin yelled, but he and the rest of them could only watch in horror as hell unfolded on the stadium behind them.


	3. Chapter 2: Not the end

**Chapter 2  
Not the end**

-Five months later, 9:00 a.m., November 28, Thanksgiving day, funeral-

"And so, as these 47 souls rise to heaven, we honor them and wish them good will in the afterlife. Their passage to the next world was sudden and unexpected, and they will be missed. But as we honor death, we must also honor life, for thanks to Martin Lopez and Tony Ortega, eleven souls were saved, and we thank you for that."

Martin looked up. Ever since the accident, people had been looking at him warily, like he was some sort of monster, but here the pastor, after an hour long speech in the pouring rain about the departed, had mentioned him as if he was a hero.

_But I'm no hero,_ he thought. _I'm just a guy who was in the right place at the right time. And even if I was a hero, what's the point if you can't even save the ones you love?_

"So we bless you, Martin and Tony, and we bless the souls that are now in heaven. Amen."

As he finished his speech, Martin noticed that all of the people he had saved were there.

_It makes sense. They all must have lost someone close to them._

As he began to leave, he saw Joseph approach him. "Hey! Martin, right?"

"Yeah, that's me, Mr. Darin. Listen, I'm sorry about your wife."

"Sorry? You have no reason to be. I'm the one who should be sorry. If I had just gone along with you, if I hadn't argued with you, then maybe my wife wouldn't have-" he broke down and sobbed before he could finish.

"Hey, it's not your fault she died," Martin protested.

"How do you know that?" Joseph said miserably.

Martin frowned.

"Oh, I guess you do know that," he said. "But, still, it doesn't make me feel any better."

"Well, I wish there was something I could do to make you feel better."

"Don't worry about me, you've done enough already." With that, Joseph walked away.

Just when Martin started to leave again, however, he felt a hand clasp onto each of his shoulders.

"Hey! There he is! Mr. Psychedelic!" Reggie said.

Martin sighed. For every person that had looked at him funny, at least two people had asked him about his psychic powers, or asked him to read their minds, or tell them the lottery numbers.

As he turned away, however, Carl grabbed him again. "Seriously, though, we just wanted to thank you for what you did."

"Well, you're welcome," Martin said, surprised at his class.

However, Carl wasn't done. "If you ever need some killer weed, let me know. I'll hook you up, no charge!"

"Uh…thanks," Martin said uncertainly, walking away. When he looked forward, he saw Arianna standing there.

"Oh, hey, it's you! Listen, thanks for…you know. Look, let me make it up to you. Do you have a girlfriend?" she asked.

Martin winced. "I did," he said sadly.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I had no idea!" she said.

"It's nothing," Martin said, walking away.

By the time he made it out of the funeral, he was feeling considerably better.

_It just feels so much better to know that you've saved actual human lives,_ Martin decided. _To know that the people you saved have families and friends of their own, and that they won't lose all of that._

As it turned out, he was dead wrong.

-1:00 p.m., same day, Callaghan's Circus-

Joseph stood behind a curtain, eating nachos. He peeked out from behind the curtain and saw the huge crowd. He pulled his head back in. "I'm not sure about this, boss."

His boss, Jeff Callaghan, said, "Don't chicken out on me, now. This is the first time we've performed in a stone building instead of a tent, and we can't lose our only tightrope walker!"

What Jeff didn't know was that they would have been better off in a tent. You see, tents are built to funnel rain off of their tops, whereas this building, made of stone, had no such feature, and, in fact, on this building, one stone block with crumbling mortar had sagged down four inches and was now collecting a puddle of rainwater.

"Okay, I'll do it," Joseph said. He put his nachos on a nearby table, put on his helmet, picked up his pole, and started to climb the ladder up to the tightrope.

What Joseph didn't know was that as he picked up his pole, he brushed his nachos into confetti cannon #1.

NOTE: A confetti cannon works similarly to a common air cannon. The confetti is loaded into the cannon, sometimes forced in by a rod, then is fired by high-pressured air out of the barrel and into the air.

"**Ladies and gentlemen, please divert your attention high above the center ring!"** the ringmaster announced into his microphone. **"Performing the tightrope walk is none other than Darin the Daring!"**

The moment he said this, Joseph began his walk and Jeff pressed the button to fire confetti cannon #1; however, the nachos were jamming the cannon. "What is the matter with confetti cannon #1?"

"Maybe someone forgot to load it?" Vicki, Jeff's VP, suggested.

"Then load it!" Jeff hollered.

"Fine," Vicki sighed. As Joseph walked across the tightrope, Vicki grabbed a handful of confetti, shoved it into the cannon, and stuffed it in with the boom. This, at least, freed the confetti to be shot out; however, with twice as much confetti and nacho crumbs, not to mention high pressure from the first attempted blast, this would be a much more powerful blast.

As Joseph reached the halfway point on the tightrope, Vicki said, "Confetti cannon #1 loaded, your majesty."

"All right, let's do this," Jeff said, and pressed the button to fire confetti cannon #1 again.

What Jeff knew but forgot was that confetti cannon #1 was set to fire first was that it shot right into the middle of the tightrope's path.

KABOOM! The huge ball of confetti and nachos shot almost straight up, flying inches in front of Joseph's face. He slipped and fell, but landed with his crotch on the tightrope, causing a dazzling spray of pain.

"**OOH! I hope that guy has all the kids he wants, because he's not having any more!"** the ringmaster exclaimed.

What he didn't see was that as the mass of confetti shot past Joseph, it hit the already weakened and overburdened stone block on the ceiling.

What everybody did see was that the stone block dislodged itself from the ceiling and landed on Joseph's helmeted head, causing the tightrope wire to be forced two feet into his body, killing him.

One down.


	4. Chapter 3: The cycle continues

**Chapter three  
The cycle continues**

-6:00 p.m., same day, Martin's home-

Martin pulled up to his house, having just been through the reading of Anna's will. She had left him a large portion of her estate, but he felt worse than ever. He still felt guilty as the only person who would have been able to save her, and he was sure that he had directly caused her death, since she had survived in his premonition.

_I just can't go to the family Thanksgiving dinner. It would be too hard to sit there and see the empty seat beside me, knowing that it's my fault that it's not my seat instead that's absent._

When he opened his door, however, he was in for a huge surprise. Reggie, Carl, Tony, Danielle, Jason, Linda, Jesse and Roger, the security guard who Tony had saved, were all sitting at his table, where a huge banquet was laid out.

"What's all this?" Martin asked, surprised.

"It's our way of saying thank you," Danielle said.

Martin looked at Linda for an explanation.

"I figured you wouldn't want to come to the family thanksgiving dinner, so I called everybody I could, and we decided to come down."

"Sure beats being six feet under – though, I'll admit, I've never tried it," Carl said.

Martin's eyes began to fill with tears. "I don't know what to say," he said.

"Then say 'pull up a chair and pass the turkey', you turkey, we've got two hours until the big game!" Tony said.

"Will do," Martin said happily, realizing how lucky he was to be surrounded by all of these happy people, as well as how lucky he was to have survived such an ordeal.

If only he had.

-Same day, same place, 8:30 p.m.-

Most of the meal had been finished, but everybody was still hanging around. Tony, Reggie, Carl and Roger were watching the big football game, and the rest were just hanging around the same area. Linda was on her laptop, and Tony, despite watching the game, seemed to be diverted by her, much to the chagrin of Martin.

_He's a jackass, that much I know from my seven years knowing him. I saved him, and he saved that guard, but that doesn't make me feel any better about him possibly being with Linda._

"Martin, did you hear me?"

Martin jumped. "No, sorry, Linda, I didn't."

"Well, listen up, because this is important. As a matter of fact," she said, raising her voice, "everyone should listen up to this."

Everyone gathered in, except for Tony. "I can hear you fine from here," he said, lowering the volume of the television the tiniest fraction of a notch. "Go ahead."

Ignoring him, Linda began. "I went online to see if what happened to you had ever happened before – you know, with the premonitions and everything.

"It turns out, things like this have happened tons of times before. Airplane crashes, highway collisions, rollercoaster malfunctions, racecar track collapses – you name it, it's happened, only someone knew it was going to happen and saved a few people.

"It turns out, though, that it had just begun for them. Every single one of them that escaped the accidents ended up dying just a few weeks later in mysterious ways, but in the exact same order that they would've died had the first person not intervened. It was almost as if Death himself was stalking them, collecting their souls one by one."

"Bullshit." This remark came from Tony, who had been listening more intently than he had let on. "First of all, what do you mean by 'Death stalking them'?"

"Well, theoretically, Death is the driving force every time someone is killed. When he is thwarted – as was the case here – he would follow the people and sort of rig things so that they would be killed."

"That's crazy. By that logic, me and Martin would be stalked by the Good Fairy Life-ica for saving those people."

"I don't know," Martin said. "She's making a lot of sense."

"Sense? That's not sense. But, okay, I'll play along with you. Martin, who's up first on Killboy's list?"

Suddenly, the football game on television was replaced by a woman. **"This is a special news bulletin. Tragedy strikes Callaghan's Circus as their tightrope walker, Joseph Darin, suffers a death most unusual on his tightrope walk. Mr. Darin was halfway across his tightrope when a falling cinderblock forced the tightrope two feet into his abdomen, killing him instantly. Eyewitnesses say a carton of nachos may have-"**

Martin muted the television. "Him."

"All right, read the rest of the article, Linda. How can we stop this thing?" Martin asked. This time, the group gathered in even closer than before.

"Okay, okay. According to this, you can't completely stop it, but there are ways of avoiding it."

"Ooh! Ooh! I've got one! Close your eyes and count to ten!" Tony said sarcastically.

"Tony, this is serious!" Martin said.

"Oh, it's serious, all right. It's serious bullshit."

"You just saw-"

"I just saw a guy on a tightrope get killed because he was on a tightrope. Not because Death was stalking him, but because he was an idiot and had a wire shoved two feet up his-"

"Language!" Danielle hollered.

"May I continue?" Linda said irritably.

"By all means," Martin said.

"As I was saying, there are several ways to avoid death. The calamities which cause the survivors' deaths can be averted by other survivors, and none else. When this happens, death skips that person and moves on to the next person on his list. Also, since death must claim his survivors in the correct order, none can die until it is their time."

"I don't believe I'm still here, listening to this crap. I'm outta here," Tony said, heading for the door.

"So does that mean you don't want to hear what time you're up?" Martin said.

Tony stopped. "Okay, I'll bite. Just when do I need to start looking out for Mr. Tall, Dark and Deadly?"

Martin concentrated. "Okay, let's see. First it was that circus guy, and then that streaker, Arianna. After that, it was Reggie, and then it was Tony. Next came Jason and his mom, Danielle, was it? After that, it was you, Linda. Then it was Carl, and then Jessie, and finally, me." Martin stopped and looked at the crowd, but they didn't seem to be taking it as he had hoped.

Reggie started to laugh. "Cool! I get to go out right after the streaker!"

"Lucky!" Carl said.

"Okay, so I'm dying after the druggie. I'll keep tabs on how much I care," Tony said as he, Carl and Reggie left the building.

"What is wrong with you guys?" Martin said. "All of you could be dead in the next week, and you don't even care!"

"Stop it!" Danielle yelled. "My Jason's already shaken enough by the accident, and now you're talking about everybody dying! I can't expose Jason to this kind of craziness!" And with that, she escorted her son out of Martin's home, leaving Jesse, Linda and Roger.

"Well, you guys believe me, don't you?" Martin said.

"Let me put it this way," Jesse said. "One year ago, my beautiful wife passed away. Three months ago, both of my children died. Now, I appreciate you saving me, but I lost $50,000 at that game, and, quite frankly, I would prefer dying at this point. So, I know you're right when you say that I'm going to die soon, but I neither know nor care about anybody else." And with that, he left.

"I believe you, kid," Roger said. "Even if I didn't, I owe you and Tony one, and I might as well help you out."

"Thanks, Roger. What about you, Linda?"

"I'm your sister! I have to stick with you on this, and if you say we have to save the streaker, let's save the streaker!" Linda said.

"Thanks, Linda. That means a lot to me," Martin said sarcastically.

"No problem. Say, where exactly is this girl?" asked Linda.

"That…I do not know," Martin said. "I actually didn't think about that part."

"No problem," Roger said. "I can figure that out."

"How?"

"You forget, I work at the football stadium. I still have access to all the computers, cameras, and the tickets. I can just check the cameras to figure out the people's seats, match their seats with their tickets, get their names, and get their phone numbers from that."

Linda looked at him curiously. "How would you-"

"Security guards are federal workers, so we have access to some federal files."

"Oh."

"The whole process should take about six hours. Why don't you guys go to bed, I'll type it up, and we meet at, say, the Westborough Mall at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow?"

"I don't know," Martin said. "That's a long time. Who knows what might happen before then?"

"Oh, come on, big bro. Even Death has to sleep sometime, and we're no different. See you later, I'm going home." And with that, Linda and Roger both left.

Martin stayed up late that night, researching the previous scenarios, calculating, thinking, and working on a way to solve their predicament. However, each time his research showed the same result: death, sooner than later.

_I can't accept that,_ Martin thought. _I have a responsibility to those people, and I can't just let them die._

_But how can I save them? How could I possibly prevent their deaths not just once, but as many times as it takes?_

_What if I can't save them?_

_And what if, when my number is up, there's nobody to save me?_


	5. Chapter 4

NOTE: I'm not proud of this next chapter. I mean, so far, I've already made quite a bit of garbage, but trust me when I say that none of it was even nearly as terrible as this next chapter, which is called - I swear, I thought this was a good idea at the time -

**Chapter four  
I stalked the streaker (but I swear it was in her defense)  
**-10:00 a.m. Westborough Mall, the next day-

"In every case that's happened before us, everybody ended up dying in a matter of months," Martin said as he, Linda and Roger walked through the mall. "Before they did, however, they were able to temporarily thwart Death by saving each other – for instance, one would push another out of the way of an explosion or an oncoming train.

"Sometimes, the people who had already seen Death's plan once were able to see it again in the form of visions, such as seeing your seatbelt ripped one moment and whole the next. These visions happen very close to the time of the person's death, and they can happen at any time. As a matter of fact, there's a chance you or I missed ten signs on our way here just because we weren't looking.

"Sometimes one survivor could inadvertently cause the death of another by doing something that seemed completely harmless at the time. Perhaps we have caused this escalator to exceed its maximum weight capacity, which could start a slow meltdown of the system, which might cause it to explode with one of the survivors on it, killing them," Martin said as the three got off of the escalator and onto the second floor.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" Linda asked.

"Did you?" he responded. "I couldn't sleep, knowing that ten people could – AAAAH!" he hollered as a banner advertising SHIRTS 20% OFF! draped itself over his shoulders.

"See, this is what happens when you stay up all night reading scary stuff. You end up jumpy all day."

"This must be one of those visions! I just saw how that Arianna girl will die!" Martin exclaimed.

"So what, she trips over a banner and falls off a cliff?" Linda said sarcastically.

"I don't know, but it's proof that she'll die soon. Oh, I wish we knew where she was!"

"She's right there!" Roger said, pointing towards a nearby women's restroom where, sure enough, Arianna Desmoulin was just entering.

"Let's go!" Martin said.

"Into the women's room? Won't that be violating her privacy?" Roger said.

"Don't worry. With her stunt at the football stadium, I doubt she'll be that concerned about privacy," Linda said critically.

What they didn't know was that in a store near them, a new electrically powered riding mower was plugged into the wall, revving its engine to prove its power.

"You two go on ahead, I'll wait out here," Roger said.

"Fine," Martin said, and he and Linda walked into the restroom.

What they didn't know was that a worker set his cheeseburger in the driver's seat of the riding mower.

Arianna, it turned out, was the only person that was in the restroom, and she was about to start streaking again. Just as she began to unbutton her shirt, Martin and Linda came in.

"Hey, it's women's – oh, hey, Martin. Listen, if you're waiting for the show, just wait outside for a few-"

"Arianna, we think you might be in danger here," Martin said abruptly.

Arianna stopped undressing. "Really? How do you figure?"

So Martin and Linda explained what they had found, as well as what had happened to Joseph the previous day.

"And you're the next person on Death's list," Martin finished.

Arianna just stood there for a moment, then burst out laughing. "You're kidding, right? Because this is a pretty good joke," Arianna said, placing her shirt on a nearby coat rack.

"It's no joke," Linda said seriously. "It happened to Joseph, and it'll happen to you."

Arianna pulled off her tank top and said, "Okay, let's review the facts. One, a bunch of people died in the past after spending a brief amount of time alive. Two, a tightrope walker was killed because he was walking on a tightrope."

"But don't you think it's a little odd that he died first, just like in my vision?" Martin said.

As Arianna unbuttoned her pants, she said, "Listen, kids. He was a tightrope walker! There are hundreds of things that can go wrong tightrope walking."

What Arianna didn't know was that a faulty storage shelf caused a D-cell battery pack to fall onto an already loose power cord, pulling it out of the wall and causing the riding mower to grind to a halt.

"I, on the other hand, have only three things to look out for," Arianna said as she took off her underwear. "Stay shaven, weigh no more than 140 pounds, and stay clear of female cops. And I highly doubt that I have anything to worry about." Her speech done, she walked out of the bathroom and began streaking across the mall near the fence that prevented people from falling to their doom.

What she didn't know was that the fence was old and that many of the stakes holding it in place were loose.

Martin began to run after Arianna, but Linda stopped him. "Chasing her won't help a thing. Besides, she's making a lot of sense."

What nobody knew was that as an employee plugged the riding mower back in, the mower lurched, causing the ill-placed cheeseburger to land on the gas pedal.

What everybody saw was the riding mower roar out of the display window and head straight towards Arianna.

Suddenly, it stopped abruptly as it reached the end of its cord, still some two feet from Arianna.

Laughing, she walked out from behind the mower's path, leaning on the fence. "Well, that was fun," she said.

Suddenly, the mower pulled free of the plug, plowing through the fence and knocking the whole thing, including Arianna, over the edge.

"Arianna!" Martin cried, running to where the fence had been.

She hadn't fallen to her death.

She had, however, fallen to a banner, which had wrapped itself around, and then broken, her neck.

The banner read SHIRTS 20% OFF!

Two down.


	6. Chapter 5: The signs

Back by nobody's popular demand, here's another entry in my terrible fanfiction. Maybe someone somewhere might be getting some enjoyment out of this. If so, enjoy.

**Chapter five  
The signs**

"Okay, I believe you now, kid," Roger said, "but what can we do about it?"

"All of the survivors will have to be together. Only survivors can save other survivors. We'll have to call them all to here."

"Okay, let's call them all. Who's next on the list?" Linda asked.

"Uh, let me see…Reggie! It was Reggie, that pothead. I just hope we're not too late."

-10:30 a.m. Highway 180-

"Dude, you think you should've had all that pot before you drove?" Carl asked.

"You had more! Besides, I didn't know we were gonna drive and shit. I just got a call, same as you," Reggie responded.

What Reggie didn't know was that half a mile ahead, a drunk driver plowed into a stop sign, knocking it so that it pointed almost parallel to the ground, the end about seven feet high.

"Hey, do you think that guy was right about everyone dying?" Carl asked. "I mean, that our number is up?"

"I don't know about you, but I just smoked five ounces of weed and I feel better than ever. If Death's stalking us, I'd like to see him try!"

What Reggie didn't know was that behind them, a car chase was going on and the cop had turned on his siren.

What he did know was that the cop car was pulling up behind him, and he panicked and drove off the road.

SMASH!

"Dude, you can get back on the road, the cop's - AAAAAHHH!"

The stop sign had gone through the window and impaled Reggie through the mouth.

Three down.

"And now Arianna is dead," Martin said, "and more will die if we don't stop this thing here."

Tony cut in. "Wait. You knew the streaker was performing and you couldn't call me until she died?"

"Are you kidding me?" Linda exclaimed. "You still don't believe him?"

"Chill out, drama queen! You'd have to be some sort of idiot not to believe him at this point! I'm just saying I could have used a little female nudity!"

"You people are all insane!" Danielle hollered.

"You don't believe him?" Roger asked.

"I believe him," Jason said.

"Stop it! Can't you see what you're doing? You're putting ideas in my Jason's head. Now he's going to grow up thinking Death is out to get him!" Danielle insisted.

"Wow, you are the most bullheaded woman I've ever seen!" Martin said.

"I know. If she was twenty years younger, I'd be on her right now," Tony said.

"I don't have to take this," Danielle said.

"Shut your damn mouth, Tony!" Martin said. "If you chase her away, she's as good as dead! We still have to convince her."

"Nothing you say will convince me of this crazy conspiracy theory you have!" Danielle insisted.

Just then, Carl burst through the door, dripping with rainwater. "Reggie's dead! Reggie's dead!"

"Calm down, Carl," Martin said. "Just tell us exactly what happened.

"Okay, okay. We were driving down the road, and there was a cop, and then the sign came through the window, and then he was dead!"

Linda glared at Danielle. "What do you say to that, Mrs. 'You're all insane'?"

"Nothing I can say in front of Jason," responded Danielle.

"Wait a minute. Carl, did you say Reggie was impaled by a sign?" Martin asked.

"Yeah," Carl said uncertainly.

"Through the mouth?"

"Whoa, how did you know that?" Carl asked.

"That's almost the same way he died in my vision!" Martin exclaimed.

"Come to think of it, didn't you say something to that first guy, Joseph, about a concrete block and nachos?" said Linda.

"That's right! And Arianna had her neck broken on her shirt collar! Do you know what this means?" Martin said.

"That you have far more free time than you do sleep?" Tony suggested.

"Not only are we dying in the same order, we're also dying in the same way we would've died!"

"That's ridiculous! Can't you see how crazy you all sound?" Danielle said, starting to usher Jason away again.

"Then I guess you don't want to hear how you die?" Martin asked.

Danielle stopped. "Of course not. Why would I care what you think?" she said shakily, but she didn't move an inch.

"Come on, girl, what do you have to lose?" Tony asked.

"My dignity, my grasp on what's real, my-"

"Your son, your life," interrupted Linda.

Danielle stopped. "Fine, then tell me how Jason and I die."

Martin began. "Well, Jason dies after Tony, with a sharp plastic fragment in his brain. Then you die in either an explosion or by catching on fire, I can't remember which. After that, Linda dies when a water bottle knocks her down and the goalpost crushes her. Next Carl dies after he's crushed by a seat, and Jesse is stabbed. Then I die when a piece of steel is lodged in my brain."

"Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be going."

"Wait a minute," Tony said. "You told them how they die, and you told me I die next, but you didn't say how I died. So let's hear it. How does this one bite the dust?"

Martin bit his lip. He had been afraid to say this one, for he knew it would only drive them apart. "Carl accidentally knocks you down and your skull is crushed by a football helmet."

For once, Tony's laid-back smile vanished. He looked at Carl like someone would look at a ticking time bomb.

Realizing the situation and what it implied, Carl attempted to make amends. "Hey, man, it's not like that. I don't want to-"

"Stay back!" Tony yelled, and he ran away from them as fast as his legs could carry him, which, for a football player, is very fast indeed.

Carl looked at Martin. "Oh my. Do I really kill him?"

'"It isn't your fault," Martin said quickly. "You were freaking out because you had just seen Reggie die."

"Excuse me," Roger said. "I don't mean to interrupt, but do you have any idea when I'm supposed to die?"

"Hmm. I'm not sure about that, but I think it'll be right after Tony, since he's the one that saved you," Martin said.

"Speaking of Tony, we'd better get out there and make sure he's okay," Martin said."

"I thought Carl was the one that killed him. Wouldn't it make more sense to stay away?"

"Carl is going to stay away from him. The rest of us will have to tag along. If something does happen not involving Carl, we'll be there to stop it."

"Wait, so now you're going to shun this man just because of your fantasy?" Danielle asked. "What if that man Tony never dies and he never sees him again?"

"Then he'll be better off," Linda responded.

"Well I, for one, am staying with him," Danielle insisted.

"Okay, you can stay with him. That might actually be better," Martin said, "In case some accident gets us killed. Now, let's-"

"Wait a minute. Has anyone seen Jesse?" Carl asked.

"Now that I think about it, he didn't show up here at all," Roger said.

"Well, I called him, same as everyone else," Martin said.

"Wait! Isn't that him?" Linda said, pointing towards the door. Sure enough, Jesse came through the door, dripping wet with a giant sandwich board that had a bunch of smeared blurs on it.

"I got your call," he said hoarsely.

"Where have you been? And what's that supposed to say?" Danielle asked.

"It says 'I hate Niggers', or at least it did before the rain washed it away. I've been yelling it, too, but my voice got hoarse right away."

"What? Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Roger asked.

"Yes! Of course I was trying to get killed! I've been committing suicide all day!"

"What are you talking about?" Martin asked.

"I tried to hang myself with my bedsheets, and the knots slipped off! I drenched myself in oil and tried to light myself on fire, but I ran out of lighter fluid and the wind blew out my matches! Then I tried filling my bathtub and dropping a toaster in, but the tub sprung a leak! I jumped off of seven different buildings, and I landed on an awning every single time!"

"Why did you keep trying?" Martin asked.

"I told you. I lost my family and my money, and you said we were all going to die anyway, so I figured I might as well get a head start," Jessie rasped.

"It doesn't work that way. I told you, we die in the exact same order as we did before. You die second last, and nothing can change that."

"Hold on," Carl said. "What if he did die before he was supposed to?"

"It would mess up Death's whole plan," Linda said.

"Not to mention save whoever hadn't died yet," Martin said.

"Okay, I'll just try harder. Does anybody have a knife, or-"

"No!" Martin yelled. "You died impaled by your knife in my vision, and that's the way you're supposed to die now!"

"So? As long as it's out of order, it shouldn't matter how I die."

"I know, but what if you just fatally wound yourself and don't actually die until you're supposed to? It would be a giant waste."

"I guess so," Jesse said.

"Excuse me, but aren't we supposed to be saving Tony?" Roger said.

"Oh, yeah! Okay, here's how we're going to do this. Linda and Roger, come with me and help me save Tony. Danielle and Jason, stay with Carl and make sure nothing happens."

"And what about me?" Jesse asked.

"Do whatever you can to kill yourself!"

ere...


	7. Chapter 6

What, you're still reading this? Are you sure you want to? Okay, if you say so. Here is the next chapter - and again, I swear, this seemed like a good name at the time:

**Chapter six  
Screwed**

Tony drove and drove as far as he could down highway 180, but eventually he ran out of gas. "Oh, that's just great," he said, pulling over. Attempting to hitchhike, he noticed a few construction workers erecting a sign in the rain and decided to watch. He noticed a bolt holding it down was loose. "Hey, dude!" he yelled at the man who seemed to be supervising the whole thing. "You have a loose bolt here!"

Tony was completely surprised by his reaction. "Oh no! How could I have let this happen again? Come on, people, let's move!" He and the other two construction workers raced down and screwed the bolt in in a flash.

"Dude, what's the big deal? It's just a screw," Tony said.

"Just a screw? It was just a screw that killed three young people two years ago!" the construction worker responded.

Tony stared at him. "One more time?"

"Two years ago, a young teenage boy walks into a coffee shop, but before he does that, he tells a construction worker, Mark, about a loose bolt holding up a platform. The worker doesn't screw it in right away, but he and two of his friends, Danny and Patrick, get off of the platform.

"Seconds later, the platform falls over and makes a truck swerve into that same coffee shop, killing the kid and his two friends. The construction workers escape unharmed thanks to that kid and vow never to let a bolt be that loose again.

"Then, the construction workers do some research and find out that the kid had saved seven or eight people at a racetrack, and hundreds of people from a mall fire. He and his friends, however, had been steadily dying ever since they escaped the racetrack."

Tony, whose attention had been steadily fading as the worker talked, listened intently again. "And you say he saved all the people that had been dying?"

"Yeah, and he saved those three construction workers before he died, too.

"The weird thing is, the construction workers began dying in mysterious ways afterwards. Mark fell to his death when a diving board ladder became separated from the board, and Danny fell off of a cliff while he was on a tour of the Rockies, which just leaves – me. Patrick Deacon, at your service."

What Patrick didn't know was that a mile down the road, a trucker had had three beers too many.

"Cool! You're one of us!" Tony said.

"Us? Who's us?"

"Survivors."

"Survivors? What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means some dude saved your ass when you were supposed to get it and now Death's stalking you, which means you're really gonna get it this time," Tony elaborated. "Your friends died in the order they would've if that guy hadn't saved your asses."

"That's ridiculous!" Patrick said. "For one thing, if you were really supposed to die in the same order, whoever would've died next – anywhere in the world – would have also died."

What Patrick didn't know was that the trucker was starting to list to the right side of the road.

"For example, let's say Mark really was saved and that he was a 'survivor'. It took him almost five months to die. Does that mean that if, in Britain or somewhere else, a man had shot another man a moment after Mark died, murderer, bullet and victim would have been frozen for the five months he was alive just so they could die in the right order? I'm sorry, but I just don't buy that."

What he didn't know that the truck driver, woken up by a car horn, now swerved to the right and hydroplaned off the road, slamming into the platform.

It didn't fall. Patrick did. He fell off of the platform, breaking his leg. "Oh my god! AAAH!"

"Are you okay?" Patrick asked.

"No, I'm not okay! I just broke my leg!" Patrick yelled.

"You would've broken a lot more if I hadn't been here," Tony said.

"What do you mean?"

"If I hadn't told you to screw in that bolt, the whole thing would've come down on you!"

What Tony didn't know was that the billboard the workers were working on was also critically damaged, and that it really was coming down.

As Tony began to walk towards the truck that crashed, Patrick cried out, "Help!"

Tony turned around and bent down. "I'm trying to see if that truck driver was injured! Honestly! You save a guy once, and then they expect you to bust your ass for them."

What both of them did know was that the billboard, which, for the record, read 'Karl's Football helmets', swung down and did to Tony's rear end what it would've done to his skull had he not bent down.

"AAAAH! My ass! My ass!" Tony yelled, writhing on the ground. There he and Patrick lay, waiting for someone to come to their aid. However, as their blood began to spread across the ground, nobody seemed to be coming to their aid-

RING RING!

"Hey, Tony, it's Martin. Where are you?"

"Well, funny you should ask…"


	8. Chapter 7

Back by popular demand - a. k. a. one guy said it wasn't that bad - here it is, for you viewing pleasure/disgust. Enjoy!

**Chapter seven Trial by fire**

Martin, Roger and Carl crowded around the bedsides of Tony and Patrick. "How are they doing, doctor?" Martin asked.

"Well, your builder friend will be out for a few days, but when he comes to, he'll be on his feet in no time. As for Mr. Ortega-" the doctor began.

"I'm right here, you know," Tony said.

"Duly noted. As for you, Mr. Ortega, you'll never play football again, but you are free to leave here. However, you will be restricted to a wheelchair for the next six months, and any strenuous activity will prompt a return to the hospital." With that said, the doctor walked away.

Martin approached Tony. "How are you doing, Tony?"

"Great, I couldn't be better," Tony said.

"Listen, I'm sorry about how this turned out-"

"Sorry? You've got no reason to be sorry. I'm having the time of my life here!" Tony said happily.

"Come again?"

"Last night, I had sex with three different nurses! Including one that I think was just a girl posing as a nurse, but I didn't care! Plus, I'm not going to die like the rest of you, so of course I'm feeling great!"

"Well, it's good to see your personality hasn't retreated back under the rock it came from," Martin said sarcastically.

"But seriously," Tony said, "Thank you for saving my life."

"Well, you're welcome, Tony," Martin said, caught totally by surprise by his gratitude.

"I mean, let's face it. Before you saved me, there were only three things I was good at: Playing football, getting girls, and being a total asshole. Now, I've found a fourth thing I'm good at – saving lives."

"That you did, Tony, that you did," Martin said. "You may not be that much of an asshole after all."

"You and me," Tony continued as if uninterrupted, "are the two heroes of the stadium survivors."

"Where'd you come up with that one?" Roger said critically.

"That's what the channel 18 news station said they would call us," Tony said.

"What?" Roger said.

"The channel 18 news."

"Please don't tell me you called the channel 18 news, that told them all about our situation, and that they are now outside, waiting to interview us."

"Okay, but when they put that microphone in your face and ask you questions, don't complain to me about keeping you in the dark."

"Come on, Tony! Media exposure is the last thing we need now," Martin said.

"You may have gotten out of this experience alive, but some of us are still on death's list!" Roger said.

"What's the big deal? Was anyone killed by a flying microphone in your vision? Anyone struck by a falling reporter? Did anyone have a stroke from being asked too many questions?" Tony asked sarcastically.

"You know, he has a point," Roger said.

"I still don't know," Martin said uncertainly.

"Come on. Didn't you say you heard about those other disasters in the news?" Tony said.

"Yeah, so?" Martin returned.

"Wouldn't it be easier to find out about it if there's more publicity?" Tony finished almost condescendingly.

Martin sighed. "Fine, I'll play along. But pride is a deadly sin, and you can't pretend you're not just doing this to stoke yours."

"Deal. Now, let's go meet the hungry public," Tony said, hoisting himself into the wheelchair and wheeling himself outside.

"So, this is just the channel 18 news, right?" Martin said. "Nobody really watches channel 18 anyway."

"Yeah, I thought of that," Tony responded.

"Oh no."

"So I figured, what do people watch?"

"How much am I going to hate the answer?" Martin said as they left the hospital.

"There they are!" a woman screamed out.

Suddenly, a reporter shoved a microphone into Tony's face. "This is the Central Sports Network, reporting on Tony Ortega and Martin Lopez, the two heroes of the stadium survivors. Tony, any comment?"

"You called CSN?" Martin muttered furiously at Tony, who ignored him.

"Yeah, I've got a comment," Tony said, struggling to stand on his feet. "I'd like to tell Death to take that big, pointy scythe, and ram it right up his ass!" he hollered, to roaring applause.

"But, seriously," Tony said, "I have now evaded Death twice, and that has led me to ponder mortality. Life is short, and we need to use every moment we're given.

"With that in mind, if there are any girls in this crowd that would like to have sex with me-" He was cut off by a tremendous roar from the crowd, some of which seemed to be tearing off their clothes on the spot.

"Not right here! Now, let's see," Tony said, scanning the crowd. "You-" he said, pointing at one woman, "come with me, and I will see you-" he said, pointing at another woman, "in five minutes. Nothing too kinky, though, I'm still kind of beaten up."

"Tony, wait! You need to stick with the rest of the survivors!" Martin hissed.

"Relax, Martin," Tony said, starting to roll into the hospital with the first girl. "My second one only lasts three minutes, you'll have plenty of time left." Without another word, he rolled his chair into the hospital, leaving Martin, Carl and Roger alone with the press.

"And here is Martin Lopez, the second hero of the stadium survivors. Any comment, Martin?" the reporter asked.

Figuring he might as well make the best of a bad situation, Martin began to speak. "Well, there is something you should know. The survivors are dying in the same order and way that they should've died had they not been saved. Therefore, if you see any of these people and something around them looks strange, see if it presents a threat to them.

"Now, for example, Roger is next, and he was supposed to die when a falling chunk of stone crushed him, so if you see a loose cinderblock, warn him. After him…"

_"After him, Jason Durlap died when a football helmet splintered and a piece landed in his brain. Then his mother, Danielle Durlap, died when she was immolated by a faulty air conditioner-"_

In her apartment, Danielle switched off her television. "It's amazing what kind of shit they'll show on television," she muttered.

"Why'd you turn off the TV, mom?" Jason said, popping up beside her, wearing Tony's helmet.

"It was that nut job from the stadium again," Danielle said. "I can't believe how much he's doing to try and convince us."

"So you don't think he made any sense at all?" Jason asked.

"Of course not. Now put that helmet back in the closet and wash up for lunch," Danielle snapped.

"OK, mom," Jason said, going into the closet and putting the helmet on the top shelf.

What Jason didn't know is that the helmet slipped off of the shelf and hit the hose for the butane tanks they used as fuel, causing it to slip off and steadily leak butane into the room.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Danielle shivered as a cold wind blew through the room. Shivering, she closed the windows, only to discover that the wind was still blowing.

"I'm going to nail that caulker I hired to the wall," she said, turning up her thermostat a few degrees. Still muttering, she walked into her kitchen, filling a pot with water. Suddenly, she saw a shadow pass over the water, wheeling around only to find nothing was there.

"Get it out of your head, Danielle! There's no way that Martin kid was right," she said to herself. "I have nothing to fear from anything, including fire." She turned on the gas on her stove, lit a match – and dropped it with a yell when the flame stretched towards her, accidentally overturning a bottle of vegetable oil.

"Not in danger, not in danger, not in danger!" she muttered to herself. Out loud, she said, "Jason? Can you light this for me? Mommy's feeling a little sick today."

"Okay, mom," Jason said, lighting the stove, blowing out the match, and throwing it into the trash can.

What Jason didn't know was that the match head was still warm.

As Danielle sopped up the oil with some paper towels and started to throw them away, she thought about what Martin said.

_I don't believe it, I can't believe it! But what if I really do believe it, and I just don't want to?_

What Danielle didn't know was that the match head lit the paper towel drenched in vegetable oil in the trashcan.

_I don't believe it, I don't believe it, I don't believe it!_

What she did know was that, a few minutes later, the entire trashcan caught on fire.

"Aah! I believe it! I believe it! I believe it!" she hollered. Stumbling back, she accidentally knocked over the pot of boiling water, causing it to scald her left ankle. She screamed and fell, and as the trashcan fire spread to a few stray newspapers around the apartment, she began to wish she had listened to Martin-

Suddenly Jason came into the room with a fire extinguisher, extinguishing the trashcan fire and stamping out the newspapers. "Mom!" he yelled.

"Thank you, Jason," Danielle said.

What she didn't know was that the room, with all windows and doors closed, had been steadily filling up with butane, causing everything in the room to become extremely flammable.

What she did know was that as Jason took off her left shoe and sock, the back of her coat, whose collar had been near the still lit burner, caught on fire.

Screaming again, she pulled off the coat and threw it onto the floor, stamping on it with her right foot. As she did so, the leather on her shoe caught fire, forcing her to pull her shoe and sock off, leaving her barefoot. Jason tried to extinguish the coat, but he found the extinguisher was empty. Danielle looked around and saw the fire alarm button. Limping towards it, she attempted to pull it; unfortunately, the remaining vegetable oil on the cheap wooden counter was the next to burst into flames, and a wall of fire now blocked the fire alarm.

Seeing their options dwindle, Danielle ran for the door, but as the fire spread across the table, an explosion knocked her off balance, making her land on her scalded left foot. As she landed on the floor, Jason ran to her. "Mom! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Jason. Get to the door," Danielle said. She struggled to her feet while Jason struggled with the door. Suddenly, an explosion sent their refrigerator toppling towards him.

"Jason!" Danielle yelled, pulling Jason away from the falling refrigerator. She saved him from being crushed, but the door was blocked by the fridge.

"What do we do?" Jason asked.

Suddenly, the microwave exploded and a shard flew into Jason's head, killing him.

Four down.

"JASON!" Danielle yelled, stooping over his body and sobbing.

WHOO! WHOO!

The fire alarm acted as a wakeup call for Danielle, and she ran to the window, trying to reach the fire escape. She found the window locked, so she grabbed a chair and began slamming it against the window. The window, however, didn't seem to be breaking.

Meanwhile, the fire continued to spread, engulfing the rug in the living room.

"Come on! Come on!" she yelled, starting to sob.

The fire began lapping at the closet door.

Finally, the glass broke, and Danielle clambered onto the fire escape.

The fire engulfed the clothes in the closet.

On the fire escape, Danielle looked at the stairs, which were covered with broken glass. Then she looked at her bare feet. She looked at the ground, one floor below. Finally, she decided to jump off of the building.

However, just as she climbed onto the guardrail, ready to jump, the fire reached the butane tanks.

BOOM!

The resulting explosion knocked Danielle off of the rail down one story onto the ground, breaking her leg.

She picked herself up and tried to stand, but with one leg broken and the other scalded, the most she could do was crawl, and she was unable to do more than a few feet of that.

_Well, at least I'm sheltered from the rain,_ Danielle thought.

Then a few embers drifted down from the apartment and set her shirt on fire.

"AAAAAAAH!"

It took the fire department ten minutes to reach her, and she was legally dead in three.

Five down.


	9. Chapter 8

Author's note: Again, I am astonished that someone actually likes this. I mean, look at it, it sucks! Well, might as well give you what you want. Here we go, with possibly my stupidest chapter yet.

**Chapter eight  
Liquidation**

A few minutes later, Martin, Tony, Roger and Carl had escaped the media and went to lunch at the _Empirical Taste Testers_, a new restaurant designed to appeal to everyone's tastes.

"Why'd you take us here? This restaurant's food sucks!" Tony yelled, despite the fact that two of the waiters were less than ten feet away.

"This building is made completely of wood. I don't want to risk a falling cement block with Roger," Martin explained.

"I appreciate the concern, but you could've picked a nicer restaurant," Roger said.

"If you don't like it, I'll have yours," Carl said, who had eaten his food extremely quickly.

Suddenly, Jesse walked in wearing a turtleneck. He saw the four eating and decided to sit down with them. "Hey, guys. How's you're day going?"

"Well, Roger's day will very likely get much worse soon, but other than that, we're fine." Tony said.

"Is this just some big joke to you?" Roger said.

"FUCK yeah, it's a big joke to me!" Tony yelled. "You know why? Because I'm not gonna die!" Tony said.

"Charming," Jesse said dryly.

"Ah, I almost forgot. Why are you wearing a turtleneck and, more importantly, why are you not killing yourselves?" Tony said.

"Well, I went home and tried to hang myself, but the rope snapped. Then I tried to strangle myself garrote style with a piece of wire, but the wire snapped and the wound around my neck healed instantly. However, I've still got a nasty scar, and I didn't want to scare anyone."

"So, why did you stop there?" Tony asked.

"Because I'm starting to have second thoughts about this whole suicide thing," Jesse said. "It's always just when you're about to kill yourself that you think of all the reasons you shouldn't, and all that regret's starting to build up."

Martin sighed. "All right. If you don't want to kill yourself, we won't make you."

Jesse's response surprised him. "No, I have to do this to save you guys. There's no other way. Where's Linda, by the way?"

"She's at home," Martin said.

"Oh." Jesse looked crestfallen. "In the meantime, do you guys have any idea how I could kill myself?"

"You could try jumping off the new Eastgarden skyscraper," Carl suggested.

"That place is still under construction," Jesse said.

"Exactly! No awnings to land on," Carl said. "If you're lucky, you might even fall into a pit of hot asphalt."

"That's a good idea," Jesse said. As he got up to leave, Martin noticed something strange on his palm.

"What's that?"

"Oh, that? It's just some markings I got when I twisted the wire around my hand," Jesse responded.

Martin looked at them closely.

"You know, if I didn't know better, I'd swear that looked like 180," Martin said.

"Really? Oh yeah, I see it," Jesse said.

"Dude! 180 was the name of the highway Reggie ate it on!" Carl said.

"And you all were sitting in box 18-O," Roger said.

"Okay, that's weird, but what does it mean?" Martin asked.

"Don't you know? Flight 180 was the one where that one dude saved those people's asses before anybody else did," Tony said.

Everybody looked at him.

"What? Just because I'm the tough football guy, I can't know anything?"

"It must be another sign. What are the markings on your other hand?" Martin asked.

"Oh, nothing. They're just gibberish," Jesse said.

Everybody looked and, sure enough, there was nothing distinctive in his right hand.

"You guys must be even crazier than I thought. Looking for signs in somebody's palm!" Tony said, laughing.

"Did I hear something about signs in someone's palm?" a voice said. They all turned around to see a woman. "I am a palm reader."

"Okay, palm reader. Prove me wrong." Tony shoved Jesse's right hand into her face.

The palm reader looked at his hand for a second or two. "I do not have the benefit of being hit in the head multiple times, Mr. Ortega, and I'm not gullible enough to buy this.

"However, this is interesting," she continued.

"What's interesting?" Martin said quickly.

"Well, some of these scars have crossed your lifeline in different angles, which would normally say exactly how you die. These first two together say that you will die in flames. This next one says you will drown. This fourth one says your head will be destroyed. The fifth one – and this one is one of your natural palm lines – says you will be stabbed. This next one says you will have your head destroyed again, and this last one means you will be crushed."

"Wait a minute," Martin said. "Are you sure the one that says he will be crushed doesn't come before the ones with the fire?"

"Yes, I am sure." With that, the palm reader walked away.

"What was that all about?" Tony asked.

"I'm not so sure Roger is supposed to die next after all," Martin said.

"What do you mean? Didn't you have all that premonition shit about the order?" Tony asked.

"Yes, but I didn't save him. You did. Maybe we got the whole thing wrong," Martin said.

"So what do you suggest we do about it?" Roger asked.

"I don't know. Let's all head to Linda's house. If we're wrong about the order, she might be next."

With that, they all left, leaving Jesse alone. "Well, I guess it's back to killing myself," he said gloomily as he walked out to the bus stop, waiting for a bus to take him to the Eastgarden mall.

A while later, as they were driving down the road, Tony asked, "So, what are you talking about having the order wrong?"

"Well, I told you that this sort of thing happened before a bunch of times? Well, what I didn't mention was that none of them are living today. They never lasted more than a year, because Death kept coming back at them. One of the ways he did that was by tricking them. He made them think it was over, but it all ended up in red herrings.

"Well, sometimes the people who survived would goof up. Maybe they'd get the order wrong, or miss someone, or think that they were next when they really weren't. So what if we did that? What if we can never get the order right and the only way we can survive this is by random action or freak coincidence?"

"Whoa, just calm down," Roger said. "If Death does come to get you, it'll be a lot easier for him to get you if you're a nervous wreck. You've had a long day, so why don't you just lie down and get some rest? We'll wake you up when we reach Linda's house."

"Maybe you're right," Martin said. "I'll just lie down and relax." So he reclined and went to sleep – but little relaxation would find him there…

_Martin looked around. He appeared to be standing on a gigantic chessboard that went on for miles. Billions of chess pieces on billions of squares, as far as the eye could see. Some were tall, some were short, some black, some white, but they all had one thing in common._

_"They're all pawns," remarked Martin. "No other pieces, just pawns."_

**_Of course, Martin. Everyone's a pawn._**

_Martin turned and, looming in front of him, was Death in all his horror._

**_I'd ask if you want to play a game, but you'd just cheat. Not that it matters, of course; I always win._**

_"Leave me and my friends alone!" Martin yelled._

**_Leave you alone? For millions of years I have collected the souls of your forefathers, and you hope to stop me by just saying 'Leave me alone'?_**

_"You can't do this! We beat you, fair and square!"_

**_You didn't beat me, you just cheated me. Well, the ball's in my court now, and you will not be able to do it again._**

_"You can't just kill us! We have free will!" Martin said desperately._

**_Why of course, you do!_**_ Suddenly, the chessboard vanished, only to be replaced by an endless line of dominoes, which were steadily falling. __**If you asked a domino's opinion, it, too, would say that it didn't want to fall down. But the dominos fall anyway, one after the other, like clockwork.**_

_"Well, not us!" Martin yelled defiantly. "We stepped out of the line, and you couldn't do shit to stop us!"_

_Suddenly, Death began laughing. __**I used to be infuriated when the first one cheated me. How could something so small defeat me, even for a second?**_

**_But then it passed. Everyone still ended up dead, and I even had a little fun._**

**_So do your worst, Martin Lopez. Because no matter what you do, you can't beat me. Your domino will fall, and I'll make sure it falls the hardest of all!_**

Martin woke up in a cold sweat, feeling not at all relaxed.

"Oh good, you're up," Tony said, not noticing his discomfort.

"Martin, what's wrong? Did you have another vision?" Roger asked.

"No, not another vision…"

"Then what did you see?" Roger asked.

"Oh, it's nothing – hey, look. We're here!" Martin said, happy to change the subject.

Indeed, they had arrived at Linda's house. As they got out, Tony asked, "By the way, is your sister dating anyone right now?"

"You've got to be kidding me," Martin said, walking towards the house.

"Hey! Hey! Someone want to help the handicapped man?" Tony called.

"I got you," Roger said, wheeling Tony forwards.

Martin knocked on the door, but when the door opened, he was greeted by a less than warm welcome.

"Leave me alone, shitfaced – Oh, it's you," Linda said when she saw Martin.

"Yeah, it's me. Who else would it be?"

"Funny you should ask," Linda said angrily. "So far, seven kids have rung my doorbell and hit me with water balloons, all because of your guest appearance on CS Fucking N!"

"I'm sorry, Linda. It wasn't my idea to have it on CSN-"

"Well, it was certainly your idea to tell everyone I was going to die because of water! You know, every time those kids threw a water balloon at me, I was scared shitless!"

"I'm sorry, Linda."

"No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry you took our entire case and turned it into a laughingstock! Now, I am going to take a shower, and if you take a shit on my dignity again, kindly let me know!" With that, she stormed upstairs.

"Never mind about whether she's dating or not, she's batshit!" Tony said.

"Shut up, let's just go back to trying to figure out what we did wrong," Martin said, clearly upset by what Linda had said.

Meanwhile, upstairs in her bedroom, Linda began to undress and get ready for her shower. She locked her bathroom door when she went in, fearing a peeping Tony.

What Linda didn't realize was that a wind blew through the room after she had gotten into the bathroom, blowing her clothes under the door between the hallway and the bedroom, sealing it as well.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Martin frantically browsed the web, looking at all of the previous disasters, searching for a clue, any clue, as to what they had done wrong.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Linda was preparing for her shower when she saw a shadow inside the upright frosted glass shower, as if someone was in there. When she looked, however, she saw nothing. Shrugging, she stepped in, closed the door, and turned on the shower.

Downstairs, Martin slumped back in his chair. "It's no use. I can't find anything that gives me a clue as to what we did wrong!"

"Well, I'm going to watch a little TV," Tony said as he wheeled away from the computer.

"Don't give up, Martin," Carl said. "We're all counting on you."

Upstairs, Linda was showering when she noticed that the water was not draining. When she bent down to examine the drain, the showerhead fell off and water started gushing straight out of the pipe, boiling hot water. Frantically, she reached for the shower door handle, only to have it break off in her hand.

Downstairs, Roger said, "Wait a minute. Go back to that last thing about the survivors of the highway thing."

Dubious, Martin scrolled back up. "What, that the people that had been saved by the original 180 survivors were only dealt with after most of the original survivors had died?"

"Exactly!"

Upstairs, the shower began to fill up with scalding water. Screaming in pain and terror, Linda tried to break the shower glass, but was unable to do any damage.

"So, if I understand this correctly, that means that you are actually last to die," Martin said. "That means that the people who are really next are-"

_"We interrupt this program to bring you a special announcement. Danielle and Jason Durlap, two of the stadium survivors, have been found dead from a fire in their apartment; a fire that, ironically, mirrors one several years earlier in the exact same room which killed a survivor of a disaster similar to Danielle and Jason's-"_

Martin muted the television. "Oh, my god, we as good as killed them!" he gasped.

Roger grabbed him. "Get a hold of yourself! We made an honest mistake, but if we just keep our heads, nobody else will have to die. Now, who's next?"

Martin thought frantically, but days without sleep had taken their toll. "Uh, let's see, it's…" Suddenly, he saw a few drops of water drip down from the ceiling above. "LINDA!" He, Carl and Roger ran up the stairs, while Tony just sat in his wheelchair, frozen.

Upstairs, the water had reached four feet, and Linda was still having no success at breaking the glass. "Martin!" she frantically screamed.

Tony, Roger and Carl reached the top of the stairs and tried to get into Linda's room. The handle turned, but the door refused to open. It took them a long time to figure out that the clothes were causing the door jam, and it took longer still to go back down the stairs, find a yardstick, and use it to dislodge the clothes.

By this time, the water level had long since passed over Linda's head and had almost filled the glass box. She tried to stay above water, but was not having much success and soon passed out.

When Martin, Roger and Carl finally managed to open the bedroom door, they faced another door between them and the bathroom. Roger tried the handle. "It's locked!" he yelled.

"Stand back, guys. This isn't the first time I've had to break down a door," Carl said. He delivered a pair of kicks to the door handle, and the lock broke off, opening the door.

They had just enough time to see the glass shower filled with water before the weight of the water caused the shower to shatter, flooding the room with hot water and broken glass.

"Linda!" Martin screamed, and, to his horror, he saw Linda's lifeless body impaled on a large shard of glass.

"NOOOOO!"

"Wait a minute. Go back to that last thing about the highway survivors thing," Roger said.

"Huh?" Martin said, pale as a ghost.

"What happened?" Roger asked.

"I had another vision. Linda's about to die!" Martin yelled.

"Oh, shit," Carl said.

"Let's go!" said Roger, and he and Carl ran upstairs. Once they reached the bedroom door, they found it jammed.

"Where's Martin?" Carl asked.

"Here I am!" yelled Martin, running up with a yardstick. He began to push the clothes away from the slot, and they were soon in.

When they reached the bathroom door, it was once again locked. "Carl, break it down!" Martin screamed.

Carl did just that, and the door opened. The glass shower, although not as full as before, was dangerously full all the same. Martin tried to push the shower door open, but all of the water behind the door impeded his progress.

"Come on, guys! Help!" he yelled, and all three of them pushed against the door. A trickle of water began to come out, and it started to make its way across the floor, where a hairdryer lay on the ground.

"Carl! Get that hairdryer!" Martin hollered, and Carl grabbed it and prevented it from electrocuting them all, but the shower door slammed shut when he did so. Carl raced back to the door and resumed pushing it, until they were finally able to open the shower door.

A deluge of water greeted them, followed by Linda's body. Martin's relief that they had saved her was cut off when he saw that she was not breathing. Frantically, he began to do CPR on her, but she still remained lifeless.

"No," he breathed as he continued his CPR. "Not again. Not like Anna. Not like mom," he said, on the verge of tears by then.

Suddenly, Linda started to cough. Her eyes opened and she looked at Martin. "Hey, bro. What's going on?"

"Oh, thank god you're all right," said Martin as he breathed a sigh of relief.

Linda looked around. "You saved me, didn't you?" she asked.

"No, I didn't." Everyone looked at him. "I didn't save any one of you, I just stalled. Worse, I killed Anna. If I hadn't done anything, she would still be alive. Instead, I killed her and everyone else!"

"It didn't happen like that," consoled Roger.

"Yes, it did! And another thing, Roger. In my premonition, you survived. You even tried to warn me just as I was about to die. You saved me, and how did I repay you? I killed you!

"You were right, Linda. I'm no hero."

"No, you were right, Martin," Linda said. "You saved me, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but I didn't save Joseph when that block fell, or Arianna when she fell off the ledge, or Reggie when that sign came through the window, or Jason or Danielle when their apartment caught on fire, or mom when she dropped that toaster in the sink and was electrocuted and I just watched like it was some sort of fucking movie!"

Finally, the tears that had been waiting surged forward, and Martin began to sob uncontrollably.

Linda put her hand on Martin's shoulder. "There was nothing you could have done, Martin.

"How do you know?" Martin demanded.

"Because of what you've been doing." Everyone turned to see Tony, who had apparently crawled up the stairs once he heard all the commotion. "You haven't slept in three days, you've gone ballistic every time somebody left your sight, and you passed up an opportunity to have free sex with hundreds of women! Now, in spite of all this, you feel guilty."

"What's your point?"

"Consider what happened when your mom died. You probably lost a few nights' sleep, and maybe you got a little clingy, but I bet that if even one pretty girl had asked if you wanted to have sex, you would have jumped."

Martin stopped him. "So, what you're saying is, you think that I don't feel guilty for my own mother's death?"

"What I'm saying is you know you didn't feel guilty and you shouldn't now."

"Tony, don't be such a prick!" Linda said.

"You say that now, but if you ever try being a prick, you'll realize it's far too addicting to quit."

"Don't listen to him, Martin. The point is, there was nothing you could have done."

"I know, but that doesn't make me feel any better," Martin said. "And what if there's nothing I can do now, either? What if all of this is pointless?"

Linda hugged him. "We'll get through this," she whispered. "I know we will."

Meanwhile, at the top of the Eastgarden skyscraper, Jesse Smith prepared for his final suicide attempt. He had timed it perfectly, for all of the construction workers were on break and nobody would see him fall.

He looked down 23 stories to the ground. No awnings, just as Carl had suggested. He bent his knees, ready to jump. A single tear fell from his eye all the way to the ground, joining the countless raindrops still falling.

Suddenly, he walked away, pulled out his phone, and called Martin. "Martin, are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here, Jesse. Are you at the Eastgarden skyscraper?"

"Yes, I am."

"Good. Thank God, it will be over soon."

"Martin, wait. I'm starting to not want to die. I'm not sure if this is the right thing to do."

What Jesse didn't know was that when the crane operator left the crane, it was still holding an I-beam, and that the turn handle, which sat just under the air freshener, was very nearly in the Turn Clockwise position.

On the other end of the phone, Martin put his head in his hands. "All right. I can't force you to kill yourself. Come back, and we'll figure out what to do next."

"No!" yelled Jesse, starting to cry. "I have to do this! If I don't die, we'll all die!"

"Okay, Jesse. Just remember, it's your choice."

What Jesse did know was that a strong wind knocked the air freshener off the mirror and onto the turn lever, causing the crane to swing its I-beam, knocking over and activating a number of power tools and pinning Jesse's arm to a wall of sheet metal behind him.

"Oh, fuck! AAAH!" Jesse screamed in pain.

"Jesse! What's the matter?" Martin asked worriedly through the phone.

"He's here for me! Death's here for me!" Jesse hollered.

"Hold on, Jesse. We'll be right there." Martin hung up. "Jesse's in trouble."

"I thought Carl was next," Linda said worriedly.

"We were wrong before. We've got to save him," Martin said.

"Well, count me out," Tony said. "I have places to be and women to fuck."

"Were you not listening? We need to help!" Roger yelled.

"Okay, then you guys get on with that," Tony responded lackadaisically. "I couldn't care less whether you live or die. I, on the other hand, am very important to me, and I will not risk myself to save your sorry asses."

"If you don't care about any of us, then why did you save me?" Roger demanded.

"Okay, you want to know why I saved you? Well, I'll tell you a secret – when I tackled you, I was just tackling you for fun. I had no idea you were about to be killed. I didn't care then, and I don't care now." With that, he crawled away.

"Well, count me in," said Linda, who had redressed.

"No, you can't. You just survived death, you're in no position to fight him again."

"Of course, I am. We need to stick together, remember?" Linda said.

"Linda-"

"You should know by now, it's no use arguing with me. I'm going."

Martin sighed. "All right. Let's go save Jesse!"


End file.
